


I Bare My Skin and I Count My Sins

by i_wont_fall_asleep



Series: Night Visions [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, M/M, dying, only the good die young, sadness and more angst, this was written FOREVER ago and i decided to post it now lol, young death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:58:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_wont_fall_asleep/pseuds/i_wont_fall_asleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Death is shit;</p>
<p>it’s messy and painful and terrible. They don’t tell you that in novels and poems and films, no, they say that death is beautiful, death is peaceful and Stiles likes to think that most people who write that crap haven’t ever actually lost anyone close to them because when you watch someone you love slowly waste away into a shell of who they once were-well there is absolutely nothing beautiful or poetic about it. Knowing that every inhale and heart beat could be their last is its own brand of madness that is in no way peaceful. And then when they finally die, the death doesn’t just happen to that singular person but it ripples out and poisons everyone who loved them, the waves so dark and angry that you can only hold your breath and hope that you can find the strength to fight back to the surface."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Bare My Skin and I Count My Sins

**Author's Note:**

> obviously based around Imagine Dragons' song 'Bleeding Out'
> 
> (I highly suggest you listen to it)
> 
> Oh, and un-beta'd so all mistakes are due to my laziness.

Death is shit;

it’s messy and painful and terrible. They don’t tell you that in novels and poems and films, no, they say that death is beautiful, death is peaceful and Stiles likes to think that most people who write that crap haven’t ever actually lost anyone close to them because when you watch someone you love slowly waste away into a shell of who they once were-well there is absolutely nothing beautiful or poetic about it. Knowing that every inhale and heart beat could be their last is its own brand of madness that is in no way peaceful. And then when they finally die, the death doesn’t just happen to that singular person but it ripples out and poisons everyone who loved them, the waves so dark and angry that you can only hold your breath and hope that you can find the strength to fight back to the surface.

**

“Stiles, you idiot!”

“Wow, love you too, Derek. And you know I’m pretty sure the polite thing to do is say ‘thank you’ when someone saves your life. It’s like you were raised by wolves.” Stiles smirk turned into a groan when he tried to sit up but a firm hand pushed him back down into the grass, his side stinging where the feral Omega had tore its claws into his soft flesh.

“I’m not saying thank you because now you’re hurt.” Derek huffed out angrily, “And of course I love you. That doesn’t make you any less of an idiot for getting between me-who is an Alpha-and an Omega, though.”

“I was trying to protect you.” Stiles whispered softly, as if in confession.

Derek’s bright red eyes bled back into his rich green ones, “I know.”

At this moment, Scott ran up, shifting quickly back into his human form, “Derek, what happened? Stiles, are you okay?”

“Sure buddy, feeling super.”

“His sarcasm obviously hasn’t been affected.”

“We should probably take him to Deaton to get checked out.”

“No, guys, this is totally just a scra-“ Stiles protest cut off with violent coughing that had him spewing blood, causing Scott and Derek to exchanged worried glances, “Okay. Let’s go see Deaton.”

On the ride to the clinic Stiles went in and out of consciousness, the pain in his side subsiding, Derek taking away as much of it as he could. As they pulled up to the building, Derek carefully carried him in and laid him on the cold metal table inside; the stinging had turned to a dull throb that he was able to push past and stay aware.

“Hm, what troubles have you boys gotten into this time?” Deaton asked in that perpetually calm voice of his as he began looking over Stiles’ wound.

“Feral Omega.” Scott muttered, “How bad is it?”

“It doesn’t seem too bad, probably a couple of weeks of bed rest. Let me just look at-oh.” A whoosh of breath left the doctor, his heart rate spiking.

“What, what is it? What’s wrong?” Stiles panicked.

“It seems as if the Omega’s claws had punctured the right lung.”

That would explain the coughing up blood, the trouble breathing and the uncomfortable heaviness he felt on his chest.

“What does that mean?” Derek tersely asked.

Deaton was silent before quietly answering, “I don’t believe Mr. Stilinski will survive the night.”

The words dropped in the room like lead.

Stiles gulped, “What if I got the bite?”

But Deaton shook his head, “You would stop breathing before the bite had the chance to repair the damage.”

“You mean I would drown in my own blood before I could wolf out?” Stiles spat out bitterly.

“Essentially, yes.” The doctor paused, unsure, “I’m- I am so sorry.”

And that was how he knew he was going to die. The tone Deaton used was the same one the doctors had used to inform him his mother wasn’t going to make it, the same one Derek had when he told the pack that Erica was really dead, and now it was being used on him.

“I’m going to die.” Stiles mumbled numbly.

“No, Stiles, we’ll-” Scott looked to Deaton, “What can we do?” A sad edge of urgency in his tone.

“I suggest you call the rest of the pack, say your goodbyes and try to make him as comfortable as possible, Scott.”

“We can’t just-“

Stiles laid his hand over Scott’s, cutting off the boy’s words, “Please, Scott, just, just call everyone, okay? I want to see them before I, you know…” he trailed off, and Scott just nodded, tears silently streaming down his cheeks, leaving the room with Deaton to make the calls.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles whipped his head around, remembering Derek’s presence for the first time now that they were alone.

“What? Why? For what?”

“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me, Stiles.”

“That’s stupid, Derek. I chose to get in between you and the Omega. This isn’t your fault.”

“Not just that, if Peter hadn’t turned Scott then-“

“Then I never would’ve fallen in love with you.” Stiles pulled Derek down onto the table, curling into his warm body, “Besides, that was Peter and you couldn’t control that. And I was the one who made Scott come look in the forest that night because I wanted to see the-Laura’s body.” He closed his eyes at the memory, “Which, I admit, was not one of my best moments.”

“Stiles-“

“Goddamnit, Derek, no. We are not playing this game of who deserves more blame. This is no one’s fault and I don’t want to spend my last hours on Earth arguing about this with you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Stiles groaned, as if just remembering something.

“What is it?”

“Oh my god, I am literally the shittiest person ever. I haven’t finished my part of mine and Lydia’s senior project and she’s going to have to finish it by herself.”

Derek looked at him, “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious, that project is a pain in the ass.” Derek rolled his eyes in the trademark Hale style, “That’s something I’m going to miss.” He murmured.

“What?”

Stiles pointed to his eyes, “Your little fond eye roll thing that you do whenever you try to pretend that you aren’t totally amused.”

“I don’t-“

“No, you totally do.” Isaac was there standing in the room, Scott, Allison, and Lydia standing behind him, “It’s okay though, we all think it’s cute.”

Stiles snickered into Derek’s chest at his irritated huff, which proved to be a terrible idea as he had to lean over the table to cough up more blood, “Ugh.”

A silence fell over the room as the reality as to why they were all there hit them painfully.

“I’m going to miss staying up until 5am playing videogames with you.” Scott whispered as his eyes watered.

Stiles smiled softly, “Dude, you’re just gonna miss me whipping your ass at videogames until you finally give up, at 5am.”

“I’m going to miss fighting with you for number one in class rank. I hate that I’m going to get the spot by default. It hardly seems like winning at all.” Lydia sulked, although behind her words, real hurt could be sensed

“We all know it’d be the only way you would be able to beat me.” Stiles grinned cockily with no malice behind it.

“I’m going to miss showing how badass humans can be, with you,” Allison stated with fierceness, “showing just how brave you are.”

“Team Badass forever and always.” He fist-bumped with her, earning him a sad chuckle.

“I’m going to miss your dry sarcasm because it feels better to cry because you’re laughing than because you’re hurt. Thank you for that.” Isaac smiled crookedly at Stiles.

“No problem.”

It was getting extremely difficult to breathe and the weight on his chest began to feel like an entire house somewhere between Allison and Isaac talking, making it hard to speak. He was sweating although his pale skin felt icy, the wolves in the room able to hear his heartbeat slowing with each passing moment. It wouldn’t be long now.

“I’m just going to miss everything. I’m going to miss walking up to you in the morning, I’m going to miss you yelling at me when I’m wrong, I’m going to miss your laugh and your smile, I’m going to miss you making me watch stupid old werewolves movies because you think they’re funny and then making stupid werewolf puns because you think you’re funny.” Derek looked at Stiles, his eyes shiny with unshed tears, set on telling him everything before it was too late, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You filled this place inside me that had been so empty and alone since the fire and you saved me; not just then or tonight but a thousand other instances when you didn’t even particularly like me because it was the right thing to do.”

“You saved me too, Derek.”

At that, the Alpha openly cried, large, warm tears rolling down his face, burying his face into Stiles neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Stiles eyes had started fluttering closed and his breathing was becoming shallower, but he began talking with renewed strength, desperate as his life slipped away from him, “My dad, please, his heart isn’t good and you have to take care of him.”

The entire pack nodded, a chorus of ‘of course’s rang out.

Stiles nodded in a jerky movement, “Can I talk to Derek privately, please?”

And they all knew what he was asking, to let him die with Derek alone, so they, one by one, hugged each other and kissed him on the forehead before going to wait outside. Scott was last and pulled Stiles into a crushing hug and inhaled his scent deeply.

“You’re my brother, Stiles. Nothing, not blood or death, could ever change that.”

“I know, Scott. I love you, bud.”

“I love you, too.” The boy hugged him tighter before letting go and slipping out of the room.

Once the room was empty again, save for him and Derek, “I don’t think I have much time.”

“I know, I know. Just hold on as much as you can.”

“I’m so scared, Derek. I am so so scared.”

“Try and think of your mom and Erica and Boyd.” Derek tried, “You can even think of my family, Laura and my mom, they’re all up there too, if that helps.”

Stiles nodded and visualized the group of people that would be waiting for him, Boyd’s small amused smirk and Erica’s eyes dancing with laughter, his own mom smiling in that soft ways that mother’s perfect, holding her arms open for him. Then he imagined the Hales, standing there too, waiting to welcome him into the family, Talia Hale strong and proud and stunning. There were scarier things to be met with.

“You can let go if you need to, Stiles. It’s okay.”

His gasps were dwindling down, his lungs nearly giving out on him, the pain kept at bay by Derek’s hands, constantly draining the pain away. His pulse thudded weakly seven more times before it stopped altogether, his whisky brown eyes shutting in finality.

Derek tipped his head back, his eyes flashing ruby red, and howled a low, anguish-filled sound that resonated into the inky night, followed by the rest of the packs own somber cries.

Derek cried for a lost mate.

Scott cried for a lost brother.

Allison cried for a lost comrade.

Isaac cried for a lost protector.

Lydia cried for a lost friend.

And somewhere in the night, a tired and overworked Sheriff in his office heard the wails distantly, as he unknowingly lost his child.

**

Stiles’ death wasn’t wondrous or lovely but painful and left its own snarled, twisted wounds in each person he had touched.

The death stole from each person and those who watched the ripple effects- those who watched Scott become quiet and distant, watched Derek fall back into his loneliness, watched the Sheriff crack as his son was buried next to his wife- could only hope that they all had the strength to break through the water and take another breath.


End file.
